Bounty Scan
by Dr. Patience's Secretary
Summary: A collection of bounty hunter stories as told by the Theein clerk at a blackmarket weapons store on Tatooine. Stories about Bossk, Boba Fett, Dengar, etc. Sarcasm, humor, and general fun. Rated T for possible language.
1. Intro Teaser

Bounty Scan

_By: Doctor Patience's Secretary A.K.A The Flying Penguin_

The galaxy is a dangerous place for anyone and everyone with a bounty next to their name and picture. Especially if that promise of credits is a large enough number to catch the eye of one of the top bounty hunters. Hunters like Boba Fett.

Everyone knows that Boba Fett is arguably the finest bounty hunter in the galaxy. He carries with him a compact arsenal of mines, grenades, tracking devices, poison darts, knives, sonic-beams, rockets, a blaster pistol, wrist lasers, an EE-3 carbine blaster rifle, and flamethrower! More than likely, he has more.

But, where do all these weapons come from? When does he have time to refuel his jetpack and restock on undoubtedly illegal weaponry? Who supplies him? Can he trust them? Does he get a Preferred Customer ten-per-cent discount?

Find the answers to all these questions, along with a barrage of punch lines and the truth about bounty hunter humor, in the up-coming Fan Fiction: **Bounty Scan!**


	2. The First Story and Bossk

Chapter 1

To begin with, my name is Sok.

And before you completely FREAK OUT, don't worry,_ this story isn't about me._ At all. I'm just the one telling it. Or, should I say, _them_. It's a whole bunch of stories.

To understand where these stories are coming from, I'm afraid I have to explain who I am. I am a Theein, and for those of you who don't know what a Theein is, allow me to explain: My race is, in generally, a very artistic bunch. We have a lot of singers, and darn good ones at that. We have great hair, too. Mine, for example, is a sort of super-bright, iridescent orange. We often have slightly off colored spots along our high hair line and on our shoulders or arms. I've met other Theeins with purple or green skin, but it's always in very light shades, usually complimentary to our hair. In other words, we sort of spiffy looking.

Especially if you stand me next to my boss, Korveph. He's Besalisk, and if I didn't grow up around him and all the other off-the-wall races of this crazy galaxy, I wouldn't know what to make of him. He has four arms and sort of looks like a frog, but apparently his species is distantly related to a bird-type race. At least, that's what I picked up from the time he lectured some unlucky customer who said something sort of 'unkind' about Besalisks.

Yes, customer. And, boy, do we have them!

"Welcome to the Mos Eisley Space Port Black Market Munitions and Arms Trading Post," is how the sign just inside the shop reads. It's a joke, truthfully, something Korveph came up when trying to describe the nature of his store. It isn't _really_ black market, since 'black market' suggests shady deals made in alleyways between guys named Greedo and Zuckuss. For the most part, our store is legit.

Our store, known simply as The Underground, never really spooked me, per say, though it probably should have. You literally had to enter through a pair of hatchway doors from behind a building facing the sandy streets (hence the name _Underground_). The walls on either side when you entered were black, but you couldn't actually see the wall underneath the layers of weapons. We had every kind of blaster rifle in the galaxy, along with countless styles and years of rocket launchers, a few flame throwers, dart guns, EMP launchers, land mines, grenades, remote detonators, a few fusion cutters, and the list goes on and on. You name it, we probably sold it. And, if we didn't sell it, we could probably find a way of getting it to you. Beyond all the weapons, directly across from the entrance, was the back counter with a credit register and the door leading to the back rooms where I, Korveph, and a few extra hands lived (no pun intended.) I have my own room back here. I'm spoiled.

But, enough intro. Intros are boring. Let's get down to the grit of it all! That's why I'm writing this thing!

My first story, and one of my favorites, is short but sweet. I was about ten when a Trandoshan named Bossk first visited the store. At least, it was the first time _I_ ever met him. He sort of freaked me out initially, to tell you the truth. Not so much because of his appearance, but because my little translator revealed that his name means "devours his prey".

Anyway, Korveph was telling Bossk about a new type of laser resistant armor or something like that (I'm sure it's outdated by now) when the big Trandoshan noticed my glowing orange hair poking up from over the edge of the counter. He made some comment about my presence, by Korveph just ignored him and continued on explaining the durability of the armor. I seem to recall that Bossk wanted proof.

"You know there are no live weapons in the store, Bossk! Didn't your father teach you anything?"

Bossk just hissed.

"How's you're father doing, anyhow?"

Bossk hissed again, a little bit longer.

"You ate him? That's a shame."

I made my way back to the back room fairly quickly at that point. Something about a giant lizard that makes a habit of eating people upset my internal plumbing a bit.

Now, I'm afraid the rest of the story is sort of here-say. We had a tiny Maintenance droid called 19-D working in the shop whose primary function was to return loose sand to the world outside. He also looked after minor things like cleaning under and around the counter.

Well, at The Underground, we have a 'lock and key' system by which we keep all our weapons inactive until we activate them. Once activated, there's no way to deactivate a weapon other than destroying it. So, my boss keeps this little gizmo with him at all times- we call it the Key and it looks like a round stub of black metal. It works on all the weapons, so it's important that he keep it with him all the time. Well, just to make things interesting, on the day I first saw Bossk, 19-D managed to get a hold, by accident, of the Key and somehow activated a nearby blaster rifle.

When another bounty hunter named Dengar stopped in to pick up a replacement piece for this big-ass blaster rifle he carries around, Bossk thought it just might be so darn funny to make fun of the guy and his rifle. By pure chance (or possibly some vindictive program in 19-D gone awry) Bossk grabbed the activated blaster, waved it around and ka-pow!

Dengar likes to tell people he got those nasty scars on his face from an emotion-eliminating biological experiment. We know the real story.


	3. No Dicount for You

Chapter 2.

Something I forgot to mention earlier! Remember the counter at the back of the store? Well, there's more there than just the credit register. We also keep, underneath the thing were only we can see, a record of profiles on everyone who comes to the store regularly. For the most part, the 'profiles' are more like "this basket case owes us 59 credits" or "do not sell Sarlacc repellent". (For the record, that stuff _really does_ work. We had a guy come in here _twice_, telling us how he got knocked into the Great Pit of Carkoon and then spit out about half an hour later.)

Along with the profiles, we also keep, right on top of the counter, a screen that picks up the all-too-valuable galaxy-wide broadcast of Bounty Scan. There are only a few programs that you can get all across the galaxy, and Bounty Scan is the only one you need a license (or some damn good hacking skills) to get. We got our license from the Bounty Hunter's Guild years ago, but we were such a small place that they never closed off our link after the Guild fell apart! So, sometimes we get hunters in our store just because they want to scan the market. It's really, REALLY easy to post and take down a bounty on the Scan, but the list itself, in its whole, is what's hard to get.

Sometimes, I can't help but think that our link to Bounty Scan is one of the main draws of this little store. That, and the discounts we give frequent customers. I hate those discounts.

When I was twelve, I was deemed mentally competent enough to not only interact with customers but work the credit register. I probably could have done it when I was younger, if only our cliental were not such a fearsome bunch. Some people might think that growing up in Mos Eisley would 'toughen ya up', but not me. I'm a Theein, remember? I'm happy hiding behind in the backroom, thank you very much. But, working in the shop was a heck of a lot better than heading off across Tatooine to look for a job. (This planet really doesn't have much going for it. Maybe I've mentioned this before, maybe not, but this really is the ass end of the galaxy.)

ANYWAY, back to the credit register. Within the first week of my taking up the tall stool behind the counter, some guy comes in- not a bounty hunter, mind you (they're not ALL bounty hunters!)- and buys a blaster pistol. He has identification and all that, even though I never asked him for it, and so I go to run it through the register. I hate that register. I insist to my boss that it was built by a Knight of the Old Republic. It's got this rod with a touch pad on it that pops out and smacks you in the gut if you aren't careful.

So, this guy buys the blaster and I'm thinking he's on his way after I hand him the receipt. But, no- all of the sudden, he goes off about the price, because he thought this digit was a 4, and I'm like, no, that's a 6, and he freaks out because he thought it was a four and you have to be more careful about marking these things and I want my money back and, no, sir, we can't refund because the weapon is already activated and then another customer- an actual bounty hunter- comes down the steps and wants to talk to my boss and 19-D freaks out and starts trying to clean the hunter because he's covered head to toe in sand and has this sticky gunk all over his boots and _this guy_ still wants a refund and next thing I know he's in a fight with the bounty hunter!

At that point I jumped down from the stool and went into the back room.

"Korveph! The customers are trying to kill each other…AGAIN!"

The bounty hunter won that one. I don't think he killed the guy, but we never saw him again. That bounty hunter has a 10-per-cent discount here now. Korveph takes him out for drinks once in a while, too, I think.

Oh, next, I gotta tell you the story about this crazy guy named ZikZik that used to come to the store.


	4. My Awesome Date

Story 3 – ZikZik

This one is a little bit awkward, a little bit sad, but mostly just funny.

First of all, remember how I said that Theein's have really cool hair? Well, my boss always had me cut my hair pretty short because he insisted it would just be easier to take care of. Also, he programmed 19-D to give my hair an affectionate roughing up once in a while. When I was 15 I figured out what the hair thing was all about.

Tired, travel-worn, possibly intoxicated space scum spend a lot of time down at the cantina trying to get females of just about any species to so much as talk to them. But then, they figure out they can just head off to that gun shop where there's that girl who HAS to talk to them. It wasn't until ZikZik came along that I FINALLY figured out why my boss was constantly saying things like 'don't let them so much as touch you' or 'keep an eye on their hands.' I always thought that meant he wanted me to keep an eye out for kidnappers and shoplifters. Little did I know.

Like I said, I was 15 when ZikZik first stopped in. To know that ZikZik looked like, you basically have to picture this:

A six-foot tall armored whirligig with big, sad eyes, a proboscis, beetle wings, and spikes on his fore arms.

"Do you carry SarlaccOff?" was the first thing he asked.

"Yeah, it's right behind you," I told him.

He bought the Off and a bottle of armor polish- no doubt for his own shell- and then asked me about my hair.

"Well, I'm a Theein," I told him. "We all have brightly colored hair that sort of stands up on its own."

"It's very nice hair," ZikZik replied. "It's sort of like… a light."

For the record, there was nothing creepy about ZikZik! He wasn't a perv or anything like that! It turned out he was just really attracted to neon lights and iridescent colors. Colors like bright, glowing orange.

ZikZik kept coming back about every three days or so. I think he asked me to go on a date with him by week three, but I told him I had to work. My boss eventually started getting sort of sick of ZikZik coming in all the time and not buying anything, but he tended to vacate the store as soon as another customer came in.

Mostly, Zikky, as he claimed his friends called him, just liked to talk to me and stair at my hair.

"And my brother, RikkyTikky, once collected a hundred a seventeen silver grapple bugs and planned out a four-hundred tear tournament for them and made, like, 5,000 credits in two weeks selling tickets so people could come and watch."

"Wow, Zik. That's really something else," I humored him. Maybe it was my fault that he always kept talking, but I would have felt too bad to just leave him hanging. I had no idea what the heck a 'silver grapple bug' was, by the way. I figured it was something like a cockroach or water skater.

A moment of silence.

"Who won?"

"A grapple bug named Thrik. For the final rounds, Rikky painted war symbols on the backs of all the bugs and ceremoniously named each of them. Thrik had to defeat Fornip and Lucas to win the championship."

"Uh-huh. And what did it win?"

"Thrick? Lifetime retirement on Naboo."

"Seriously?"

"No. A fan bought him for 23,00 credits."

Another few moments of silence.

"So, how _big is _a silver grapple bug, anyway?" I asked. I had literally just pictured a bunch of ZikZik-like kids crouched around an arena drawn in the sand filled with little black beetles.

"About 8 feet long."

"Holy Shizno, that story just took on a whole new meaning."

"Ever seen one?"

"…no."

"Really? Because my brother still has some! You could come and visit us sometime!"

"Oh, look, Zik," I interrupted him, "it's Dengar!" _And right on time, too,_ I thought to myself.

Zik prompted made his farewell and went scuttling up and out of the store.

Eventually, I had to break the bad news to ZikZik.

"Listen, Zik," I told him as nicely as I could without jumping up and screaming _You're a freak of nature! _"My boss is getting a little bit agitated with you and, don't take this the wrong way, but…" I tried to think of the gentlest way to put it. "See, I have an endoskeleton. You have an exoskeleton. I have a mouth. You have a proboscis… and you can move your eyes independently of one another. I just don't think a relationship," I said the word through gritted teeth, "would quite work out. Besides, I have to work all the time. I think you should find yourself a nice bioluminescent girl friend and have a good time. Maybe on another planet even. Some place far, far away from here. Really."

I could tell ZikZik was disappointed, but I don't think he was too shocked.

"Well, I'll see you around, then," he said in a quiet, despairing voice, and waddled out the door.

I don't miss ZikZik. At all. He was a nice guy and everything, but he was SO ANNOYING! He made getting any work done around the store impossible.

The day after I finally sent him off, three Imperial Storm troopers came into the store. My first instinct was to run into the backroom and lock the door, but since they walked rather than ran up to me, I figured they weren't here to arrest anyone.

"Are you Sok?" the first one asked.

"Yes…?"

"Are you familiar with this citizen?" the one with the orange paulette asked me, holding up a semi-holographic image.

"Holy crap, that's ZikZik," I replied. I would have laughed, but storm troopers creep me out too much.

"Good, come with us."

"Aw crap," I muttered under my breath. Luckily, my boss came out just then and found out just what was going on.

LONG story short, I spend the next hour trying to talk ZikZik out of feeding himself to the Sarlacc. That really sucked. The worst part was that he jumped in anyway, but he was wearing so much of that Sarlacc Off and Armor polish that the thing spit him out again within a few seconds.

Last I heard of ZikZik, he was at a rehab clinic on Felucia. He fell in love with a five-foot butterfly/ lightning bug and apparently she liked men in armor. I think they created a whole new breed of glowing whirligig butterflies. Pretty cool.


	5. Boba What?

Bounty Scan – Chapter 4

Maybe growing up around the scum of the universe types wasn't the healthiest upbringing, but it certainly gave me an interesting perspective. I think you _have _to be raised in the store to work here. We could never just _hire _someone, because they probably wouldn't be able to deal with the customers. When you spend most of 18 years getting to know guys who would hunt down and vaporize their neighbors for the extra spending money, you- for better or for worse- start to get used to it. You pick up on the cues of just how far you can push them.

We have this one guy who comes in pretty regularly. He has a ten-per-cent discount here, as he's sort of like a Preferred Customer. But, he's so full of himself that I have to give him a hard time. In fact, he stopped by just a couple days ago…

"19-D," I said, "where did you put my other shoe?" That's pretty much how every day starts. 19-D is always hiding things in odd places. I'd fix him if only I knew how.

I heard the hatch doors open just as I was jumping out on one foot, trying to get my other shoe away from 19-D. I think he was trying to clean the sand out of it…

"Kid, grab me another one of those precision scope lenses. My last one melted at the Mustafar refinery."

"Oh?" I replied, essentially pretending like I had no idea what he was talking about. "What kind of gun is it for?"

I couldn't see his expression under his helmet, but I knew he was giving me one of those P.O'ed _'Shut up and give it to me_' looks.

"EE-3 carbine rifle," he said slowly with a slightly agitated sigh. Of course I already _knew_ his rifle forwards and back, but I just liked to mess with him.

Now, whenever this guy comes in, he seriously stocks up. I've seen other bounty hunters just stare at the pile of stuff he amasses on the counter in about ten minutes of digging through the store. Grenades, poison darts, various types of blades, high-tension wire no thicker than a few stands of hair, anti-fog spray: you name it. The bizarre thing, I always thought, was 'where does all this stuff go?' I mean, does he really use it all up in less than two weeks? Knowing him, he probably does!

"Get this refueled, and don't forget the One Ten P.C.D this time, kid!" he ordered me. Last time, I deliberately skipped over the 10 per cent off.

"Oh, yeah…right!" I replied, sliding his jet pack off the counter to take it out back for a refueling. (We keep jet fuel in small quantities in the store, but only in a secure location out back.) Normally, I wouldn't leave to refuel something until after the customer paid for everything, but you could really trust this guy. Heck, he'd probably keep an eye out for shoplifters for me!

After I was done with the jetpack- and had to pry it away from 19-D's cleaning apparatuses, I counted everything up on the counter and started charging it into the Credit Register.

"Name?" I asked.

I stared at me.

"You know my name," he answered. "_Everyone_ knows my name."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I replied sincerely. "We just get _so many_ bounty hunters in here, it's impossible to keep track of all the names!"

"I'll give you a _hint,_" he said. "Start's with a B."

"Boushh?

"…"

"Bringe?"

"Don't insult me."

"Bossk?"

"What did I just say? I hate that lizard freak..."

"And!" I interrupted him, "you know my name, too! But you still insist on calling me kid!" There was nothing very serious about this conversation. I knew I couldn't insult this guy if I spent the rest of my life trying to think up disses. "I'm 18, for crying out loud."

"Fine," he replied, already beginning to pack up his extensive purchase, "Sok."

"Much better, B. Fett! One Ten P.C.D it is!"

'B.Fett' is how 'Boba Fett' listed in our client account records, so I just always call him that. My boss knew his dad, who used to come in here all the time, too. J. Fett, I think.

By the time I finished charging to his account, Fett had conducted the always-impressive trick of making all that gear vanish in to the many pockets and pouches about his person.

"How can you walk with all that stuff?" I asked.

"I wouldn't go anywhere without it," he replied, holstering a pistol and finally picking up his rifle. "Any new numbers up?" he then asked, turning his attention to the Bounty Scan screen. 19-D slowly approached and tried to clean some sand off Fett, but the droid was quickly and deftly kicked away. That happens a lot here.

"I don't think so…" I said, but I never pay much attention to the thing any more. Let them scan their own bounties! "There's a good one out from the Empire on a guy hiding on Kashyyyk."

"38,000," he read aloud. "Not bad. Not great, but not bad."

At that point, I just had to turn and tell the guy the truth.

"If I had even 30,000 credits, I'd be off this planet so fast! What do you do with all that money?"

He continued to watch the screen for a moment, noting each mugshot face or mask or breathing apparatus that slowly scrolled down the left, and the bold numbers beside their name, last location, and party seeking the capture or killing. Finally, he answered,

"I bring it here."

He made his exit shortly after that, and all I could do was shake my head.

"19-D," I said, "what do you think would happen if someone put up a bounty for Boba Fett? Would anyone go after it? Or would he turn himself in for the money and then bust out and kill whoever put up the bounty?"

"Suggestion: Why not just trade armor with an Imperial Clone left over from the Republic and turn the clone in?"

I've often thought about putting up bounties for one credit on my neighbors, JUST to see if anyone would bring them down to the store, tied up and gagged. That'd be mean. I should try it sometime.


	6. TheeThing

Bounty Scan – 5

GUESS what I _just_ found out today. It's not "Theein." It's "Thee_lin_."

My boss LIED! He LIED like a rug! That, or he just didn't know any better.

But, know what? I think I'm just gonna keep saying Theein. Apparently, I'm not even pure of my race, anyway, so I'm more like a near-human hybrid type. It was a pure Theelin who informed of my misinformed state today. She was a bit shorter than me, about 5'5". She had the skin spots and wild hair like me (only hers was red and really done up), but she also had a set of three horns on each side of her head, which I must say I found to be fascinating. I told her they must be good for head-butting people, but apparently head butting wasn't exactly her 'style'. Her name was…Rystall, I _think_, and I guess she's something of a popular singer. I'm not really _in _to music, so I wouldn't know.

Now, here's the interesting part about that Rystall lady: she actually asked me if I knew Boba Fett!

"Why? He owe you money or something'?" I asked with a laugh.

"Somethin' like that. If you see him, be sure to let him know _I _was looking for him."

"Sure thing," I replied, arching one eyebrow. "But, he only comes in here every couple of weeks or so…"

"That's all right," Rystall replied, getting ready to leave. "I can wait. He knows where to find me."

Once she turned away to leave, I rolled my eyes. It was like I'd fallen into either a bad romance story or a boring mob crime.

Anyway, that was sort of neat, meeting another Theelin. Or Theein. Thee_thing_! How about that?! I'm a Theething!

I've heard, actually, that the Theelin race is having a rough time. I don't know who my parents were or are, but they must have been crazy with a capital K to lose or give me up. There are only a few million Theelins left in the galaxy, and most of us are crosses with other races. I think I'm actually pretty far removed from the Theelin race, seeing as I have ZERO musical talent whatsoever.

Dang! It's so hard to focus in and write stories about those bounty hunters! It's so much easier just to keep a journal of my life! The only issue there is that my life is about as fascinating and appealing as a Bantha turd.

Well, maybe I shouldn't write this down, but it probably won't matter. Remember how I mentioned a while ago that Storm Troopers really freak me out? Well, there's a good reason for that. See, back when I was really little, about 4 or 5, I was…"

A loud thumping noise came from the hallway outside Sok's room. She recognized it right away as the sound of her boss, Korveph, tromping towards the front of the store in a rush.

"Something wrong?" Sok asked innocently, poking her head out her bedroom door.

Korveph turned and looked at Sok, giving her a strange look. He seemed panicky. He peered around the wall to make sure there was no one in the store.

"Sok," said, returning a few paces down the hall, "I don't have time to explain everything, but you gotta keep this a secret from _everyone_, all right?"

"All right…" Sok replied slowly, more than a bit confused.

"I headed to Nar Shaddaa, but only try to contact me if there's an extreme emergency, got it? I'm not quite sure when I'm comin' back, so you and 19-D are in charge of the store until then. You can handle that, right?"

"What would an Extreme Emergency be?" Sok asked quickly.

"Mobs of bounty hunters threatening to kill ya if you don't tell them where I am!" Korveph exclaimed quite honestly, turning to leave and throwing his hands in the air.

"Holy Shisno!" Sok cried out. "_What did you do_?"

"Never mind about that! I'll be back as soon as I can!" Korveph yelled over his shoulder. "And remember: you have NO IDEA where I am!"

With that Korveph ran up the hatchway stairs from the store as fast as any Besalisk could, slammed the doors tight behind him, and the store fell silent again.

"Holy crap…" Sok repeated, gripping the door frame and staring at the air beyond her nose.

19-D slowly approached, beeping quietly and looking up at her from her right shin.

"Do _you_ know what he did?" she asked abruptly.

The droid responded with a set of negative beeps. Then, after a pause, the droid made a suggestion.

"Bounty Scan?" Sok repeated. "I don't think so…"

Nonetheless, she left her room and went out to the front store to check the bounty scan monitor. The usual faces and numbers were slowly scrolling up, eternally up, only to loop back again in a few hours. Sok watched the screen in doubt for a few minutes, during which time she tried to imagine all the things her boss might have _possibly_ done to send him running out the door in a panic and all the way to Nar Shaddaa, the _death hole_ of the galaxy.

"I seriously doubt it, D," Sok said to the little droid, who now perched on the counter. "I mean, who would put a bounty up for Korveph? Anyone could find him, and it's not like he's into shady business deals or…"

But then, there it was. There was no image of Korveph yet, but the short description of his height, age, last known location, weapons, and vehicle was already up.

"Last known location: Ojom? What the heck?" Sok read. "This thing doesn't even _mention_ the Underground! He's worked here as long as I've been around, that's for sure…And every bounty hunter in the flipping galaxy knows him and has probably bought a blaster from him!"

Then, his image uploaded.


	7. People Suck

Chapter 6

"What the fu…ngis?" Sok exclaimed, leaning in close to the Bounty Scan screen. "What's not Korveph! I don't know WHO that is!" She turned to D-19 and shook her head. "Who ever put this bounty up is either confused, an idiot, without any dependable resources, or all of the above!"

19-D made a few high-pitched beeps in agreement, rocking back and forth on his two chicken-like legs.

Sok stared at the bounty for a few moments, thinking the situation over. She had never necessarily been fond of Korveph…

"Well," she said after a moment, "I suppose that, if he never comes back, I get to keep the store all for myself." Then, after a short laugh, she added, "And then sell it for a ton of credits and get the heck off this craptastic planet!"

She left the screen and went to one of the near corners of the store to try to organize some sniper rifles back into their racks.

"So, today," Sok wrote, "I found out that some seriously confused or unfortunate denizen of the galaxy has an issue with my (former) boss, and they put up a bounty for him on the Scan for, like 8,000 credits! You'd think that they could at least get the right picture of him. Knowing the vast majority of bounty hunter's I've met who would actually go for an 8,000 C bounty, they won't realize it's the same Korveph and head off to Ojom.

I am interested to see, though, who does figure it out. I can think of at least a couple guys with the brain capacity, but half of _them_ wouldn't bother with 8,000. Oh, God, I hope Greedo doesn't come in. I can't stand that guy. I hate his hair."

"Well, it's been a couple days since Korveph made his triumphant escape. I can't help but wonder if he didn't post that bounty himself JUST so he could take a vacation. It's the sort of thing he'd do, too.

I should try it.

Anyway, things have been running even smoother than usual with him gone. I think he caused more issues here than he fixed, and I think he was pretty incompetent with numbers, so all our accounting is screwed up. It's all right, though, since- what with my total lack of a social life- I can take all day to work on those things if I want to. I say DAY because all the _real_ customers come in at night. You know, the guys who need three liters of tranquilizer fluid.

Speaking of tranquilizer, I'd like to run a couple gallons of it though that Greedo guy. I think he managed to fit the piece together only once he came into the store and thought: hmm…Korveph bounty? Korveph missing? HMM…!?!?! He made some derogatory comment to me about my clothes, so I sold him a blaster that reliably shoot about a foot to the left no matter how you try to recalibrate it.

"It's a one of a kind," I told him. Yeah, one of a kind because they were recalled and all vaporized for being a disgrace to the world of marksmanship.

That'll teach him.

Aw, great, here come someone now. This always happens! I close the store and SOMEBODY has something they simply have to have! If he doesn't buy tons of crap, I'm banning him from the store.


	8. House Call

Chapter 7

Sok shoved her writing tablet under the counter and swiveled around in her chair. All the lights were off in the store, so Sok sent 19-D to turn the ones behind the counter on.

"This had better be important, B.Fett," Sok said, trying to sound like she was honestly annoyed.

"You don't seem very busy," the Fett replied, approaching the counter.

"That's because the store closed half an hour ago. I just happen to live here."

"Then consider this a personal call," he answered, hooking his thumbs loosely into his belt.

"Okay…" Sok said with a sigh. "What is it?"

"Your boss," Fett answered. "I know they've got the wrong picture up, but it doesn't take a hyperdrive technician to figure it out."

"You'd be surprised."

"Where is he?" Fett demanded firmly, tilting his visor down slightly.

Sok was a little caught off guard by this command. She suddenly recalled her boss warning her not to tell anyone where he went.

"Umm…I have no idea. Why…wait, it's an 8,000 bounty. Aren't you into the _80,000_ league?"

"8,000?" Fett repeated with a half-laugh. He freed his hands and walked to the end of the counter to turn on the bounty scan screen. It opened as though by a zipper and promptly continued to relay its wealth. "Clearly you haven't been paying much attention!"

As the faces and numbers eternally rolled up, Korveph's profile shortly came into view.

"HOLY SHISNO!" Sok exclaimed, jumping down from her stool. "25,000 credits? What the-? Who? Wha…?"

"It's been goin' up every day since it was posted," Fett explained. "Apparently, Korveph has information that those Rebels want."

"Rebels?" Sok repeated. "What? Korveph? Yeah right! I don't think the Rebels are after my boss…They don't have that kind of money."

"I didn't say they were after him," Fett went on, this time with an edge. He didn't like long conversations. He just wanted to get some information, a couple rockets for his jetpack, and get out.

"Clearly you don't pay attention to ANYTHING," he snapped at her. "Your boss is bribing the Rebels for the information he has. With all the commotion over the bribe, the Empire wants Korveph either dead or captured to both keep the info from the Rebels and potentially use it to their own advantage."

Sok stared at the dent in Fett's helmet for several moments after he finished explaining.

"Really." She paused. "And…what does he know that the Rebels want?"

Fett just shrugged.

"You tell me. You've been working with him since you were two."

"Five."

"Whatever. It doesn't matter to me. I'm only interested in that bounty, which is destined to soar the longer the Empire waits. And, with the wrong picture and location, even the Empire doesn't know where to look or who to look for. Fortunately for me, I've already got half the puzzle…"

He paused and turned his attention from the bounty scan numbers over to Sok. He stared at her for a moment, wondering if the silence alone would made her spill the location.

"Where is he?" he asked again, though it sounded more like a command.

"I don't know," Sok replied. "I haven't seen him for days."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

Sok realized Fett was getting ready to start badgering her with questions, most of which would be irrelevant. He was going to try to get her to slip up somehow.

"I don't know where he is!" Sok exclaimed, sitting back in her stool and holding up her hands.

"I asked when you last saw him."

"When he left!"

"What did he say to you?"

"Nothing!" she lied.

"He left without saying anything at all to you."

By that point, Fett has his weight on his forearm on the counter, leaning in as Sok leaned back.

"He said he wasn't sure when he was coming back," Sok shot back, realizing a split second too late that she'd _just_ said that he'd said nothing.

"And where did he say he was going?"

"He didn't! Why would he?"

Finally, Fett had the response that produced the tell-tale signs of Sok's lie.

"In case the Rebels came here looking for him with an offer for that bribe."

Sok was about to reply, but stopped herself and had to think for a moment. That seemed like a logical reason for her boss to tell her where he could be found. But, what Sok didn't realize was that Fett made that last part up on the spot. He just wanted to see if he could make her think, 'is THAT why he told me where he was going?'.

"By tomorrow morning, that bounty could be up near 30,000," Fett said, standing up straight and adjusting his stance to leave. "If you should happen to suddenly 'remember' where that Besalisk went, I might be feelin' generous enough to give ya a cut."

Then, Sok did something stupid. It's not that she was a stupid person, it was simply that the filter between her brain and her mouth needed replacement.

"Psssh! Yeah right! You're known for 'partnering up' with other hunters and then killing them to get the whole bounty! You're so damn tight with your credits, you-"

Sok stopped abruptly and froze. She suddenly had an outstanding view of the inside of the barrel of Boba Fett's rifle.

"You insulting me?" he asked darkly.

"No, Sir!" Sok replied quickly, unable to pry her eyes away from the gun.

"Because that's sure what it sounded like! Now, I'm an honorable guy, and if I say I'm considerin' splittin' the bounty, then I'm considerin' it. But," his voice dropped, though he didn't pause, "if I say I'm seriously considerin' coming back here tomorrow morning to _make_ you remember where that four-armed bounty went…"

He didn't even need to finish the sentence. He just slowly took his gun back and, with only a backwards glance, left the store.

Sok stared at the door for several minutes after he was gone. When she finally did reposition her eyes, it was towards the bounty scan. From the time Fett turned the thing on that night, the bounty had already gone up by 2,500 credits.

"Hey 19-D," she said slowly in a shaky voice. "You remember the name of the planet Korveph said he was off to?"

The droid responded with some negative beeps.

Sok gulped with some effort and her voice cracked.

"Me neither."


	9. A Stupid Stupid Lie

Chapter 9

Today, I did something that was, I'll admit, probably pretty stupid. See, after my little confrontation with Mr. Fett there, I decided that getting involved with that guy would be a REALLY BAD IDEA just to save Korveph's sorry butt. SO, I put to use the high-quality lying tricks I've accumulated up after years and years of working with liars.

So, I got up real early this morning and clamed my nerves. … That is to say I was up all night because I couldn't get to sleep and I had to plan out my lie. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that the ONLY WAY OUT of this was to play it dumb. REAL dumb.

I guess he came back into the store about 20 minutes after I opened the place. Obviously, I think he was expecting me to be shaking in my shoes. Luckily, I wasn't even wearing shoes.

"Hey, B.Fett!" I waved to him as soon as he came down the hatchway. I wish I could have seen his expression. "You know," I went on casually, "I actually had the craziest dream last night, and you were in it! You were all like, 'Where's your boss'? And I was like, 'I haven't seen him around!' You know how dreams are weird that way? I forget where we were…"

"…Sok?" He was standing about a foot from the counter by then, undoubtedly giving me the 'you've finally lost it, hmm?' look.

"And there was this long tunnel," went on. I had to pretend not to hear him at first. But, I also knew that I had to be the one to bring Korveph back up. "It's so weird, you know, ever since Korveph took off, I've been having the strangest dreams."

I think at that point, he pretty much figured I'd lost my mind or sincerely thought that the evening before was just a dream.

"And…" he began slowly, "where DID Korveph go?"

"You know, I have no idea," I replied. I realized that I'd just repeated the phrase 'you know' about five times, but it was too late now! "I think he told me," I went on, trying to evade any more lies, "but I just can't remember what he said. It was some really obscure planet…"

Right about then my insides caved in on themselves because Fett grabbed my collar and pulled me in. You know it's some high-quality visor material when you can't see though it despite being less than an inch away.

"Well, then if you don't know anything, what's the point in keeping you around?"

I panicked, I'll admit, and tried to squirm away, but with little success. He slammed my head down on the counter and held me there, pulling out his blaster with his other hand.

"HOLY SHISNO!" I screamed out. "I'm telling you, I don't know! If I knew, I would tell you but I don't know!!!"

Literally, all I could think of was the name of Korveph's stupid home world. I could actually see the Bounty Scan screen from my unfortunate spot on the counter. I have no idea how he held me in place without a stake- I was kicking and practically crawling up onto the counter.

Now, as I once mentioned before, I get freaked out by stormtroopers. Really. They scare me. It's a long story. But, I think it must be a phobia, because I have no logical reason to fear them. They have terrible aim, they can barely move in that armor, and I'm a loyal denizen of the empire (on paper). So, you can see why it was wonderfully ironic that they, of all people, saved the day.

Five of them, actually. The one in the lead wore a black pauldron on his shoulder and the other four were coated, head to toe, in sand.

"Lower your weapon!" one commanded. "Release her!"

While I did feel Fett's grip lighten just then, I figured it couldn't have possibly had much to do with the stormtrooper's threats so much as it did with wanting to aim his gun at the troops instead.

"What's going on here? We heard the disturbance from the street," said the one with the pauldron as the other four pretty much surrounded us.

As soon as my collar was free I accidentally dropped to the floor. I didn't mean to, but for some reason the feeling in my legs had gone on holiday.

"I asked you a question," the lead trooper said, foolishly stepping up to Boba Fett. Two other troops had come behind the counter and actually lifted me up and set me down on my stool. They shed sand whenever they moved.

"Well here's a question for you," Fett retorted. "You boys got a warrant? 'Cus I don't see much shoppin' goin' on."

The lead trooper was, obviously, QUITE full of himself.

"You stinkin' piece 'a space trash," the trooper came back. "We own this galaxy and scum like you are just mucking it up. I once spent nine consecutive months on Nar Shaddaa cleaning up your type, and…"

I think Boba Fett saw my reaction when the trooper mentioned Nar Shaddaa. I popped up straight in my seat and gaped at the lead trooper for a good five or six seconds. A moment later, I could tell by the subtle title of Fett's visor that he was looking at me.

I mouthed out the words 'That's the place!', and he caught on right away.

Well, anywho, to make a long story short, Boba Fett ended up getting in a fight with that one stormtrooper. Guess who won. And lucky frikin me, I got to spend the rest of the day at an Imperial station, going through endless legal crap and totally unproductive questioning. It wasn't an interrogation, it was just questions. I think the troopers on Tatooine have some issue with Boba (and if they didn't before, they sure do now!) I don't know how he got away, but it's not at all surprising that he did. I mean, really. Sandy stormtroopers. Not much competition there.


End file.
